


Forgive and Forgive

by Wolfcry22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Affection, Common Cold, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fever, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Protective Dean Winchester, Sick Sam Winchester, Sickfic, Sneezing, The Impala (Supernatural), season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25193602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfcry22/pseuds/Wolfcry22
Summary: The brothers aren't on good terms so Sam's convinced Dean doesn't care about him. He thinks his brother won't be willing to help him, when he gets sick. He tries to hide it from Dean.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 100





	Forgive and Forgive

**Author's Note:**

> This is just another fluff story set at the end of Season 4 right after Sam’s demon blood detox with some angsty brothers and a happy ending.
> 
> Mild warning for cursing.

The rumble of the road under the tires of the Impala made Sam shiver even more. His head ached dully while his throat felt raw, like someone had rubbed sandpaper all over it. His nose itched deep within his sinuses while it ran like a faucet. It was probably the worst he had felt in a few months, which was saying something considering all of the injuries that he had sustained as of late. 

But, the last thing that he wanted to do was tell Dean about it. He looked over at his brother and saw him clutch the steering wheel tighter until his knuckles turned white. The music was on, but it was so low that he could barely hear it. Although, that might've been because his ears were so clogged that he could barely hear anything besides his own thoughts that just echoed around in his throbbing head. 

"We'll be at a motel in a half an hour."

Dean's voice was so cold that Sam practically heard the anger dripping from it. Sam gulped as he turned his head to look up at the window as the desert seemed to pass them by. He closed his eyes as he thought back to what he had done to deserve this treatment from his brother and he instantly knew. He could describe it in two words. 

Demon Blood.

He had been clean from it for almost a week now, but Dean was still furious about it. He couldn't necessarily blame him, but that didn't mean that it was easy for him to forget that Dean had locked him in Bobby's panic room for what felt like forever against his will. Yes, it had helped him, but it had also almost killed him. He supposed that he should thank his brother for saving his life. Now wasn’t the time to bring it up. 

His brother was hardly talking at him at all. In fact, they had stopped at a diner nearly seven hours ago and Dean hadn't said a single word to him through the entire meal. They had just ordered their food and eaten in silence. The only break that they had gotten was when Sam had retreated to the bathroom to actually indulge in an impressive sneezing fit. 

Sam had been denying his illness for what felt like almost a week, right after he had been clean. He knew that it had been his immune system's response to all the demon blood had had consumed as of late. His body had just rebelled and he couldn't blame it. It just couldn't have come at a worse time.

Now he was just trying to ignore the fact that he was going to have to stay in a motel in close quarters for a night or so with a brother who didn’t seem to want anything to do with him at the moment. His cold had just picked up and he wasn't going to be able to deny it for much longer. The coughs were bubbling from deep within his chest and was producing so much snot that he couldn't contain it by mere sniffling alone. Stifling his sneezes silently was becoming old and painful at the same time. He knew that he had to have a fever of some degree since he was feeling disconnected and uncomfortable as if a thousand ants were running over his skin. 

"Once we check in I'm going to hit a bar or two," Dean announced. 

Sam turned to look at the elder Winchester. Dean shot him a glance with a raised eyebrow and Sam quickly cleared his throat. "Okay," he rasped.

Dean didn't answer him and Sam didn't expect him to. He turned around before he felt the tickle rise up from deep within his sinuses. Sam tried to squish it back by massaging his nose with his thumb and forefinger in swift motions. However, he had been doing that for what felt like almost a five hours when the need presented itself, and it seemed like he would be unable to will them back anymore. He was going to have to just stifle them since he needed at least some relief. 

"ICshxx! IShxx! TCshxx!"

That wasn't nearly as satisfying as Sam had hoped for, but it was better then nothing. He rubbed at his nose in the aftermath and struggled not to sniff back the congestion that threatened to leak from his nostrils. He leaned against the seat and pushed his head almost into his shoulder. 

"Sam."

Sam blinked his eyes. His brother hadn't called him 'Sammy'. He hated that nickname, but at least it meant that Dean cared about him. Now he had just called him Sam and it seemed flat at that.

"Whadt," Sam asked. He swore under his breath as he heard the congestion in his own voice. If he wasn't busted yet, he would be soon. 

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Just wondering if you're okay?"

"I'm fine. Thanks for asking," Sam snapped harshly. He hadn't meant to be that brash. If anything he wanted his brother to be concerned about him; it meant that Dean cared. He wasn't sure if he still did or if he forgave him for the whole 'demon blood thing', but either way, Sam still felt that his brother was keeping him at arm’s length. 

Dean said nothing as he turned up the radio. Sam knew that he deserved that. He slumped back even more and felt his head pulse with the vibrations of the music, intensifying his headache tenfold. The only thing that he could do was close his eyes and hope that he would find sleep since that was the only peace he could fathom.

"Hey, get up!"

Sam's eyes opened as he swiveled his head to look up his brother. He climbed out of the driver's seat before slamming the door, causing the Impala to quake.

Sam knew that he wasn't going to ask twice. He opened the passenger door and jumped out. He clearly underestimated his steadiness as the ground seemed to come up to face him. He quickly straightened before Dean could see him stumble. He lifted a hand and coughed into the back of his wrist since Dean was nowhere in sight to comment on it. He was probably in the room already. 

As Sam prepared to join his brother in the room, the tickle he had squashed down earlier, returned with a vengeance and Sam took the opportunity to actually coax it out. His sneezes could be on the louder side, but if Dean was in the room, then he wouldn't hear and he wouldn't know. 

"ITcshshSHh! ITCsHsHs!! ITCSHsh! ISCshsh!"

Once Sam was finished, he fished a bandanna out of his duffle in the back and blew his nose as forcefully as he could. He let out a breath of relief, followed by a few coughs as he closed up his duffle and threw it over his shoulder. He headed over to the motel door and opened it. There he found Dean already changed into another pair of jeans and a new flannel accompanied by his leather jacket, ready to head out again. 

"Nice of you to join us, Sam." 

Sam didn't say anything as he set the duffle down. He actually wished that Dean would go to a bar and leave him in peace. That way he could cough, blow his nose, and sneeze as loud and unrestrained as he possibly he could. With Dean here he could do nothing but stifle his sneezes and swallow his coughs out of fear of his brother finding something else wrong with him to point out and give him a hard time over. 

"Okay, not talking. I guess that means that you don't want to come," Dean grumbled as he grabbed the keys. "Good, because I don't want you coming." 

That was fine by Sam. If anything he liked that idea. He just couldn't have Dean knowing that. "Fine," he wheezed as he closed his eyes and tried to regain his composure until Dean left. 

"Whatever." 

With that, Dean headed out, slamming the door behind him. Sam couldn't have been more relieved, which was strange. He didn't want his brother there, but he wanted him to be there at the same time. His brother would always take care of him when he was sick, not matter what. He could even recall Dean abandoning a few hunts in their youth to stay back with Sam when he had ailments. They had been through so much in the past few years that Sam wondered if the brother that he used to know was even still in there. 

When Sam was sure that Dean wasn't coming back, he opened up his duffle. He rummaged around through the bag and pulled out some sweats and a t-shirt. He went into the bathroom to change, kicking off his shoes in the process with his sock covered toes sinking into the crunchy carpet. He thought about taking a shower, but taking one with a fever and no one around wasn't a good idea; he had learned that from painful experience. So, he just decided to change and crawl into bed since he didn't have any meds because Dean had the first-aid kit in the car with him. 

He walked over to the bed and fell into it. He didn't even bother to climb under the covers even though he knew it would provide extra warmth against his shivering frame. Sam was just too tired and weak at the moment to consider it. He was uncomfortable and feverish as well. It was shaping up to be one of the worst illnesses that he had experienced in a long time. 

"ItCSHsh! ITCshh! ITCSHsh!" 

The sneezes snuck up on him and caused his throat to scream in protest. He moaned as he turned his head from the pillows so that he could breathe through his mouth instead of his plugged nose. He squeezed his streaming eyes closed shut before he felt his body go limp.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean arrived home slightly staggering. He wasn't wasted—not yet—but he certainly wasn't sober either. He turned on the light before he noticed his mass of a brother sprawled out on one of the twin beds in front of him.

"Sam," Dean asked since he could hear Sam's loud breath almost through the entire motel room. 

Sam didn't answer and Dean realized that something had to be wrong. His brother was a light sleeper and just the whisper of his name could usually wake him up. 

Dean walked over and could practically feel the heat coming off of his brother in rolling waves. 

Something was clearly wrong. 

He kneeled down and stretched out a hand and felt Sam's forehead once he moved the shaggy hair out of the way. He held his breath when he noticed how high of a fever Sam had to be raging for him to burn that hot; not to mention the mucus that crusted around his eyes and his nose. 

"Oh, Sammy. Why didn't you tell me," Dean asked as he felt instant regret wash over him. He had spent so much time being angry and pissed off at his brother that he had forgotten a sign as simple as Sam getting sick. Sam wasn't good with emotional exhaustion and it always left him susceptible to illness. Why did he think that demon blood detox would be anything else besides emotional exhausting?

"Sam. Sammy. Wake up, kiddo," Dean whispered as he nudged Sam's shoulder roughly with an extended fist. He just needed to see Sam open his eyes and look at him. The last thing that he wanted was a trip to the hospital. 

Sam groaned, lifting his head and blinking his eyes. He coughed, reaching up a shaky hand to rub a knuckle against the corner of his right eye to peel the caked crust away. "Deadn?"

"I think that's my name, somewhere in there," joked Dean, forcing a lightness to his voice that hadn’t been there in weeks.

Dean looked around as Sam sniffed painfully. He took in his brother for a moment, quickly falling into big brother mode. He headed into the bathroom and returned a few moments later with a box of tissues that he found on the back of the toilet seat. "Hey, try these. They're thin and probably hurt like hell, but they're better than nothing.”

Sam looked up through squinted eyes, suddenly slumping back down, moaning softly. Dean leaned forward and helped Sam sit up to prop him against the headrest. "There you go. That's probably better, don't you think?" 

Sam nodded tiredly, reaching out to grab the tissues. He pulled out a bundle of them and turned away from Dean to rub at his streaming nose. Dean shot him a look and patted his shoulder. "Come on, Sammy. Blow like you mean it."

"M'loud," mumbled Sam with tears in his eyes.

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, I know, but it wouldn't be you if it wasn't." He patted Sam's shoulder once more, pausing to squeeze after each pat like he had used to do when Sam was a teenager. "Go on. I'll pretend I don't see it and I don't have to listen. How does that sound?" 

Sam said nothing as he blew his nose loudly while still being twisted as from Dean as he could manage while still sitting on the bed. Once he finished, he pivoted back to face Dean, his cheeks completely flushed with fever. He still breathed nosily from his mouth as he looked to Dean. "Dean, I'm sorry. I—“

"You don't need to be sorry, Sammy. At least, not right now. We can talk about this later," Dean sympathized as he felt Sam's forehead again with the back of his hand. He then cupped the sides of Sam’s face, feeling the heat pulsing from his little brother. 

Sam shook his head, recoiling back sharply. "Wanna.....talk....about....eh....it.....huh.....now!"

"Okay, fine, but at least catch your breath or whatever you're doing first," Dean told him, thinking that he could take this time to wet some washcloths to hopefully cool him down. The last thing either of them needed was a trip to the hospital.

"ITCSHsh! ITCShhh! ISCShhhSh! ICShshh!"

Dean stiffened when he heard his brother's painful sounding sneezes. He had always been loud sneezer, but this was worse than usual. Dean knew that it had to be because of the demon blood detox and how much strain his body had gone through as of late. He didn't want to be the bring it up, but it was clear that Sam wanted to. 

Dean returned just in time to see Sam finish blowing his nose and slump back against the headboard, eyes listless and bright with fever. Dean rushed forward and rested the washcloth on Sam's forehead. "There. Just relax, okay? That should help bring down your fever until I can hit the pharmacy tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, but I want to talk to you," Sam began, his words almost slurred.

Dean sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed and looked to Sam as he tried not to roll his eyes. "Alright, but just for a little bit. You need to relax and get some rest. You can’t do that if you’re staying up and talking to me.”

"I'm sorry about everything. It's just you were gone and I wasn't sure what to do. I thought that it would help," Sam pointed out as he looked down in shame. It was the first time that he had ever verbalized his shame in the matter and he wasn’t sure how Dean was going to respond to it. 

"I know. I don't now what I would've done if I was in your shoes. Hell, I sold my soul so that I didn’t have to. But, I do know that not speaking isn't helping either," pointed out Dean as he squeezed Sam's knee. "Now, are we good?"

Sam forced a small smile. It didn’t explain everything, but it was certainly a good start. "Yeah, we're good."

"Forgive and forgive," added Dean as he turned on the TV and turned the volume on low so that it didn't bother Sam. 

It was often something that John had told the boys when they were younger and Dean had adapted saying it to Sam in John’s absence. It meant that whatever had happened may not be forgotten, since that was impossible, but there was a way for it to be forgiven and not brought up again. There may still be awkwardness or hurt feelings between them because things had happened in the past with the brothers, yet that wasn’t to be focused on any longer. It was not to be brought up or dwelled on any longer. 

“Oh, and one more thing before you go to sleep." 

Sam opened one eye, craning his head around his pillow to steal a glance over to his brother. "What?" 

"If you’re sick and we're not fighting, just tell me, okay bitch?" Dean's eyes glowed in amusement as he longed for Sam to actually reply to him.

Sam let out a small breath that turned into a ragged cough. He rubbed his hand against his mouth before smiling back. "Whatever you say, jerk."

The End

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed it and are staying safe and healthy!


End file.
